Shattered Thoughts
by nicol-leoraine
Summary: Short story, Nick focused. Spoilers up to the second season Who are you, Stalker. Read and review.


**Title: **Shattered Thoughts

Author: Nicol Leoraine

Category: Vignette - post-ep

Focus: Nick Stokes

Spoilers: 1th and 2nd season, up to ep.-19 Stalker

Disclaimer: Don´t own them, just writing for fun. Don´t sue, don´t have money.

Author´s Notes: My first story in the realm of CSI. It´s also my shortest thing. I just started to watch the show and would like to write more /and definitively longer, just need to get a better feeling for the characters. Also a little warning - English isn´t my first language and I´m still learning it, so possible grammar mistakes.

Reviews are hugely appreciated, begged for and well... awaited.

Shattered thoughts

by Nicol Leoraine

They say we´re the finest. Correction - the second of the best in the State. But all in all, we´re just a little bunch of people who play together the big game of living. We got a case, we look for clues and hope we can find them. Once the suspect is caught, we are off, presenting our case at the court, stating cold facts that helped a little, too late.

Sometimes, we´re succesful, sometimes we catch a killer and save an unfaced victim. Or not.

Sometimes, we´re the victims.

It started with Holly Gribbs. Of course, she wasn´t the first CSI ever killed, but she was the first of _us._ I just made the third grade. Grissom handed me that blasted licence and I took it with a feeling of success. Then Brass stomped in and boom...

Yeah, it was a hard case, maybe harder for the others because they at least talked with her. I don´t really know if I ever shared a word with Gribbs. I don´t think so.

The next cases went by, some easier some harder. I learned that I don´t know everything and that there´s still much to learn. The smell of death was lost between work and learning, between my effort to prove myself to Grissom. I almost forgot how close we were to death. Of course, I wasn´t the only one affected. Catherine had to deal with her ex-husband, Grissom had to deal with Catherine. Warrick and Sara were occupied enough and I?

I was facing the gun and trying hard not to cry. I was thinking about how stupid could we still be - and I was imagining how the other CSI´s would process my body, just as we proceeded the body of Holly Gribbs. Because I was sure that Amy Hendler will pull the trigger.

But Grissom figured it out all, in good time for a last minute rescue and I was spared only with trembling hands, broken pride and several weeks lasting nightmares.

Maybe the night with Kristi was my way of proving that we can do something good. Oh, I know sleeping with her wasn´t a good deed, I´m not so foolish to think that. But her claim of returning to school, getting off the street... it felt good. Maybe she was someone I could save in time.

But I was wrong, and she was dead. Suddenly, I was the suspect and even though Catherine knew I was innocent, it was a hard time. Because if they proved her wrong...

They stood by me. Maybe they thought I made a mistake, but they stood by my side and proved my innocence. I felt relief.

Why am I thinking about this?

Well, some people say they see their whole life when facing death. This wasn´t my whole life, it wasn´t even the half. But those were moments I remembered, in a quickness of lightning, when my ceiling collapsed and I saw the body. When Nigel Crane jumped down into my living room and grabbed my own gun.

And while he talked and I was trying to stall the time, all I saw was the dead body of Holly Gribbs, of Kristi and of all the others I worked on. When Crane pointed the gun at me, I saw myself, laying there, right next to the dead psychic.

"You know I don´t want to disappoint you, Nigel, but this isn´t the first time I´ve had a gun in my face." I took a step toward him. You know, it was true. I faced the gun when Amy Hendler found out her plans were ruined. But then Grissom came in and stopped her. I knew Grissom was on his way - just as I knew he won´t make it in time.

"How do you want this to end, Nigel?" I knew how I wanted - waking up from the nightmare. Thinking it was just a side-effect of my concussion. Maybe I was still lying on the ground, below Crane´s apartment.

"How do I want this to end? I want you to be able to remember my name."

Oh, that I did. I will never forget his name. Not as Crane pointed the gun at himself. Not when I lunged at him, as crazy as an idea it was, and tried to stop him from blowing off his head in my house.

Why did it matter? He was a killer. And he killed because of me. So what? I couldn´t let him just do it. It wasn´t right. Hell, nothing was right that night, or the following morning.

"It´s, it´s done. All right?"

"Yeah," I nodded at Brass, trying hard to calm my breathing.

But I was wrong.

"I am one and who am I?"

The question is repeating itself, again and again. I am one and who am I.

I know who I am. But who was he? Why did he have my clothes, why did he watch my life? And why did he kill - for me?

They´re standing around me, watching Crane as he plays his insanity. They´re here because of me. Support. I almost snort at that.

I asked Grisson why he did this. And his reply?

It wasn´t about you, Nick.

And I´m tempted to shout at Grissom. Then who the hell was this all about? You? Warrick? Sara? Catherine? Or Morris Pearson, the psychic that probably saw his own death?

No, this was just as much about me as it was about Crane.

"I´m one and who am I?"

He doesn´t know anymore. And I´m afraid I won´t know it either.

"Twenty-five years to life, Nick. It´s over." Sara spoke as the man behind the observation glass stands and looks straight at us.

"It´s not over for me. It´s over for Jane Galloway." I reply as I watch the man and wonder. What did I had that he wanted me for? Why me?

He watched me sleep. I shudder at the thought. He watched me, and I didn´t even know. And they´re telling me it´s over. That it has nothing to do with me. Just forget, Nicki. It´s over.

And I want to scream at them, to scream at myself.

Why did I stop him? Why didn´t I let him shoot himself? Just for once not be the good boy. Just for once make something right.

But I didn´t. And he was there, alive.

"Well, we should get back to the lab." Catherine sighs. The others agree with her, they want to get away. Leave this room, leave the insanity behind.

Only I can´t. As the door close, Crane walks toward the mirror, his hands reaching up for something. The officers take him out, but I´m still there. I will be there till someone won´t need this room, still watching and imagining the voice, repeating the one sentence round and round.

"I am one and who am I."

What if I can´t give an answer to this question?

The End

A/N: There it is. I know the theme is a little used, the next story should be more original. I´ll also probably need some good beta, who can help me with some details. My favorite character is Nick. If you want to help out, or just talk, mail me.

And don´t forget to review:-)


End file.
